Every Other Wednesday Afternoon
by pussycatwithattitude
Summary: During those six months, Anna spends every other Wednesday afternoon that she can on the bus to Kirkbymoorside.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A new story! This was originally going to take place after Bates got back in Series 2, but then it got me thinking, and maybe the reason why they were so close again so quickly once he got back was because Anna had been to see him every chance she got, and that was how their relationship was rebuilt. So then this came into being. I'm currently thinking half a dozen chapters, maybe more if the creative juices start flowing, but this is just to make up for the lost time we didn't see.**

**Disclaimer: **As with all of my _Downton Abbey _stories, the characters don't belong to me. All rights to Fellowes, ITV, Carnival etc. and the same will go for all the other chapters. The last section is also a deleted scene lifted from the Series 2 Script books.

**Summary: **During those six months, Anna spends every other Wednesday afternoon that she can on the bus to Kirkbymoorside.

* * *

**Every Other Wednesday Afternoon**

**Chapter One**

_A broken heart can be as painful as a broken limb._

And it was true. Mr Bates had broken her heart the moment he had left with his wife.

But even whilst Anna knew deep down in her heart that there must have been more to his words, and to his reasons for leaving, it still hurt. It hurt more than anything she had ever experienced in her life. And that had included a broken arm when she was five after her brother had dared her to climb one of the tallest trees on the land of her childhood home, her parents' farm.

It had taken her months to overcome her grief for him. In ways she had felt selfish, because a lot of young men were out fighting in the war, and some women would be grieving over the death of their loved one. She was grieving because he had left to return to his wife. Anna had been at the brunt of some snide remarks from Thomas and O'Brien during that time, at least when the two were both sure that Mrs Hughes would not overhear them, but she had learnt to ignore it.

Anna May Smith liked to think that she had come out of her grief for him in a stronger place. She had begun to accept that to have experienced a great love such as theirs was a strength she could carry on her shoulders for the rest of her life, and in the words of one of his favourite poets, one that Mr Bates had read with her so many times in the flickering candle light of the servants hall, it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. And that was true. And she had carried that sentiment with her for all of those months without him, when Mrs Hughes would voice her concern or when Lady Mary would take to talking about her father's old valet at night.

Slowly, Anna had come to the conclusion that he would not be coming back. The months had passed without a word from him, and no sign either. It seemed, after all, that he had truly gone. It seemed that he had kept to his resolution that she should forget him; find a better man, as he had attempted to tell her to do so often.

That was, until, she had seen him in the village.

Deep down, she knew it had been him. She would recognise that stance anywhere. In his first years at Downton, she had come to be able to recognise the tap of his step almost before he even entered the room. It had become second nature for her to listen out for it. Her ears had become attuned to listening out for him, and her eyes would always recognise his figure, the way he hung slightly to his right when he leaned on his cane too much.

And after Lady Mary had telephoned Richard Carlisle and she had received news of his whereabouts, Anna knew that she would go and see him. There would be no question about it.

The first Wednesday afternoon she could spare, she took the bus to Kirkbymoorside.

Her legs were jittering on the bus, she had given the bus driver the wrong change more than once, and Anna was slowly becoming aware of how nervous she was about seeing him again. Mainly because of how he had left, and what he had told her to do. In some ways, she had been frightened that he would tell her to go, and that he was not worth fighting for. She was scared that he would turn her away, which is why she would go in there with her walls built up around her – the walls she had built over the past months to protect her own heart from further devastation.

Of course, she had felt it. She still remembered all too well the night she had cried with Ethel over the loss of her dream. But from then, she had tried to overcome it. She had tried to stop herself from falling victim to her tears every night. Some nights she had succeeded, other nights she had wept quietly beneath the bed sheets.

When she reached the door of the _Red Lion _she felt her heart stammer in anticipation.

There he was.

The love of her life.

His back was turned, but she could still recognise him. She would recognise him anywhere.

Anna took a deep breath, and before she had the chance to change her mind (something she told herself she would never do after being given this chance) she opened the door and approached the bar.

She watched as he turned, asking the gentleman for his money.

Then he stopped.

So did her heart.

She could consciously feel the room stopping around her. It was as though time stood still. All of the sounds coming from the few patrons in the pub dissipated around her. All focus was on him. She could hear her heart beating wildly, and somewhere within this cloud she had been immersed in, she could hear herself speaking,

"Might I have a glass of cider."

She could hear her voice. Stony. Passive. Almost cold. She was going to protect herself at all costs.

Anna watched as Mr Bates fumbled with the change, delving into the till momentarily, hardly taking his eyes from her. After she had watched him give the man his change, she approached the bar further.

She swallowed nervously.

"I don't know whether I've dreaded this moment or longed for it."

She considered his statement for a moment.

"Well, either way, it's happened."

Anna could see him visibly swallow.

They both remained silent for a few moments, although it felt like minutes. Moments had always felt like minutes in his company, but this was different.

"I can bring this over. I am due a break, we can sit at that table over there."

Warily, she noticed him pointing towards a table by the window, and she nodded dumbly. She was hardly able to say a word. She had written him letters, letters she would never send. Accounts filled with words to say to him, and now she found that none came.

Anna knew that this moment would have come eventually, but now that it was finally here, for one of the first times in her life she had absolutely no clue what to do.

* * *

John stood in the back room, just behind the bar. Her glass of cider stood on the table beside him, but somehow his hands were shaking too much for him to take it just yet.

She was here.

She had found him.

_How? _He would ask her. He had been careful that afternoon in the village. She could not have followed him back here.

After all of those months back with Vera in London, he had dreamt of this moment. The moment his eyes would come to rest upon her once more. And now this moment was finally here. John Bates had always been a man of few words, but somehow he knew that this would have to change in the coming half an hour.

He needed to explain himself. He would need to tell her about the plans for the divorce, his reasons for moving back up to Yorkshire.

John turned and looked in the tall, slim mirror that was on the wall. The owner of the pub had put it here because of his wife and older daughter, and John was suddenly grateful for its presence.

He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it back into place. He wanted to look nice. He wanted to look nice for her. He straightened his waistcoat and smoothed the sides of his hair down neatly, his hands still shaking slightly.

Once he had taken another deep breath, he moved his left hand to collect the glass of cider and, manoeuvring himself out through the door, he prepared himself to face the love of his life.

* * *

They stayed this way for as long as possible, his hands cradling hers in the middle of the table. Her glass of cider remained untouched, John assuming that her nerves had gotten the better of her, as they had done for him.

He noticed she had been quite resolute to begin with. She had been the one to force him into speaking – it had been his hand to play. He had accepted this gracefully, all too aware that he had been the one in the wrong; for leaving her the way he did, for breaking her heart. He could see that he had. And nothing pained him more.

He had tried to explain himself, explain that he was attempting to seek a divorce, but that it was taking its time. It would, of course. Divorces were hardly easy to come by anyway, and without money to stir things along, it was likely to take more time than not.

But, it was only when John had complimented her – as he had itched to do since she had come in through the door – that he had finally seen her walls crumbling down. He was sure there had been tears in her eyes, and he could hear a catch in her throat as she had spoken.

_She had offered to be his mistress. _

His heart had stirred at the prospect – the idea that she would have given up her life, her reputation and her family and friends for him. But he could not have accepted, he could never have accepted a proposition such as that. If he had any shred of decency left in his life, it would be to keep Anna safe.

"What time do you finish your shift?"

Her voice suddenly broke through his thoughts, causing him to shake his head slightly.

He watched as a knowing smile crossed her lips, teasing him slightly for his wandering mind. It was something she had done before, back at Downton. She would have been gone to make tea, and come back to find him completely engrossed in his thoughts. She would often have a hard time pulling him from them, and would use it as the perfect excuse to run her hand along his back, across his shoulder blades, causing him to shudder pleasantly.

"Not until later this evening."

Her face fell. Evidently she had wanted to spend more time with him.

He continued, "What time do you need to be back?"

Anna looked around at the clock on the wall. She sighed, "Soon. The bus gets here in twenty minutes."

It was not the last bus back to Downton, but she had not expected to be out so late, and she could not get word to Mrs Hughes that would excuse her for being back later than usual.

"I can wait with you until then."

Anna smiled pleasantly, moving her thumb to rub across the palm of his hand.

"Will you–"

"Can I–"

They both spoke at the same time, and Anna blushed and ducked her head. John simply smiled.

"You go first," he insisted.

"No, you go," Anna countered, smiling wistfully.

John resigned and nodded, "I was going to ask if you'd come back, on one of your afternoons off." He paused for a moment, waiting for her reaction. When he noticed her features soften, he continued, "No one knows that I am here, apart from Lady Mary and Sir Richard, of course. But neither of them will say anything. They have no reason to. And as long as we keep it between us, I see no reason Vera should find out."

He paused again, noticing that a few of the patrons were watching them, as well as his fellow bartender, who seemed to be indicating that John needed to get back.

"And," John continued, ignoring them briefly. "I would like to see you again."

It was probably the first thing he should have said, the first reason he should have given, but Anna seemed to appreciate it nonetheless.

"Of course I will, silly beggar." Anna smiled and grasped at his hand once more, and John returned the gesture, faintly remembering the times she had called him that before. Her way of expressing her aggravated sentiment for him. He secretly loved it. "Every chance I get."

John smiled even more at her optimism.

"Do you think you could get every other Wednesday afternoon off?" Anna asked light-heartedly.

"I shouldn't think that would be a problem."

He squeezed her hand reassuringly, before the other barman came across and motioned to John that he needed to get back soon.

John made a few excuses that he would just see Anna onto the bus, and then would come back. His colleague seemed to understand, and even smiled briefly at Anna before leaving to stand behind the bar.

Anna seemed to understand that their meeting was coming to an end – it was no different to their sporadic talks back during the times at Downton, really, what with the nature of their work – and began to delve into her bag, pulling out the right amount from her purse and sliding it across the table for him.

"Here, I really should be going."

John looked up, frowned and covered her hand, attempting to give her the money back. "I can settle it."

"I'm a modern girl, Mr Bates. I can pay my own way."

John watched as a smirk crossed her lips, and he could not help but do the same.

Sighing as Anna insisted with the money for her cider, he relented, but kept his hand firmly in its place.

"Will you at least let me walk you to the bus?" John teased her, stroking her gloved hand.

"I could manage that."

John chuckled quietly before standing up, using the table for support before he reached out for his cane. Anna watched him carefully as she stood, realising that she had missed so much about him. Even the way he carried himself, she had missed. He would probably be embarrassed if he knew what she was thinking, but Anna could hardly help it. He was the love of her life, and she had missed him terribly. The way he carried himself was endearing to her. It had been one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him, by the way he had stood against all those who thought so little of him, and how he had stood and fought his corner – at least with a little encouragement here and there.

Once he had reached for his cane and steadied himself, John led her out of the _Red Lion_, his spare hand splayed protectively across the small of her back as a few of the patrons cast curious glances towards them.

The bus stop was just outside, which meant he had such little distance to walk with her.

So instead, they waited there.

For a few minutes, the two lovers stood in silence. John noticed when he would look across and cast a glance in her direction that Anna was fiddling with the straps of her bag, almost as though she was summoning the courage to speak to him.

He was just about to ask her about it when she spoke up,

Anna sighed, almost as though she was finally getting something off her chest. "Come back to Downton." Her first statement surprised him, and the change in his facial expression reflected this. Anna seemed to notice his surprise, and continued, supporting her notion, "They'd love to see you and the new valet's an odd cove. I doubt he'll stay."

Anna stopped and thought for a moment, her mind imagining Mr Lang. For a moment, she regretted her earlier words, thinking that there must have been a story to the new valet, just as there had been with Mr Bates. With _John_, she reminded herself with a smile.

She looked up and caught his eyes just as he was about to respond. He looked a little sullen, his eyes having clouded over a little since her proposition, "His Lordship won't have me back." Anna opened her mouth to argue back, but John beat her to it. "We parted on bad terms."

Anna shook her head. The man she loved really could be a pain sometimes. She could tell it would take a little more to persuade him. But then, maybe he staying here would do them well until the divorce became resolved. It would do no good for either of them, or the family, to have Vera returning and causing a stir again. Also, she could visit him secretly here. They could almost be a normal, courting couple here.

Almost as though he had read her mind, John continued, "And I don't want to see the others until it's all resolved." Anna smiled faintly, recognising their similar thoughts. She felt him taking her hand in his and looked down, her smile widening as she heard the bus approach the stop. She looked at their entwined hands for a moment, almost believing that their lives could be like this all the time one day. That they could be together, properly. For good and proper. John tugged at her hand lightly, causing her to look up. His eyes were shining now, the clouds having disappeared. When he spoke, she knew the reason, "Then I can greet them with an invitation to our wedding."

Anna was helpless as her lips broke out into another wide, teary smile.

Whatever her previous intentions were coming here, whether it was to just hear him out and to remain passive, it seemed she had no control over her actions when she was with him. He had managed to begin rebuilding the ruins of her heart within just under an hour.

Her heart suddenly quickened as she watched him raise her hand to his lips, kissing it as a pledge before he motioned towards the bus and helped her aboard.

She was a little crestfallen that she had not been provided with the opportunity to kiss him properly, but for now it would do. She had heard his declaration of love _twice _today, and he had mentioned their wedding.

This would definitely be the best incentive to carry her over until the next time.

Anna found herself a seat before the bus started to drive away, a seat where she could watch John until the bus rolled around the corner, taking her further and further away from home. At least until her next Wednesday afternoon off.

* * *

**Next: **An afternoon in a tea shop, and John also takes Anna on a countryside picnic.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you so much for the response so far, I'm glad you like it. The next chapter might take a little bit longer because I have no full draft yet, and it's nearing exam time, but I will try and get it posted ASAP. Thanks to **testship **as always who read through this chapter for me.

I tried to work out how much a bus fare would cost Anna back then, but this was the best I could figure, and I'm still not completely sure. If it's way off the mark and you can provide a better estimate, please let me know and I'll change it! Enjoy!

* * *

**Every Other Wednesday Afternoon**

**Chapter Two**

Just as Anna promised, she came back to Kirkbymoorside on the half past one bus from Downton. It cost her half a crown of her monthly wage, but Anna could hardly find it in herself to care. Seeing him again was worth any cost, and as she remembered the look of hope and anticipation across his face a fortnight ago, she would be damned if she would miss this opportunity for anything.

She had been questioned more than once about her cheery smile – which was apparently too uncharacteristic of her usual self, despite her usual disposition and the fact that it was her afternoon off – that morning by Lady Mary, Mrs Hughes, Miss O'Brien, Mrs Patmore and William, and her simple response had just been that it was a beautiful day for her afternoon off, and why shouldn't she be happy? In the back of her mind, she told herself that she would have to be more composed in the future, especially if she were to keep Mr Bates' secret.

But she was glad that on the bus she could smile freely, and this smile widened much as she arrived in Kirkbymoorside to see Mr Bates waiting for her at the stop.

Anna took a few moments in the time the bus came to a spluttering stop to take in his figure. She committed as much of it to memory as she possibly could. He was standing in his light brown suit, one which she had seen him in on several occasions and he had evidently used more pomade than usual to comb his hair back neatly, even though she secretly loved it when it was a little more rugged. Anna remembered a trip home from the village once in a sudden shower of rain which had resulted in both their hairs being messed up. He had caught her staring and she had blushed. He had soothed her embarrassment with a kiss – such had been the nature of their relationship at that stage. It had been a sudden autumn shower just over a year since the beginning of the war.

Anna shook herself gently as she watched him approach the bus and as he opened the door and offered his arm for support. She smiled and took it, letting her mind drift for just a moment to imagine this being just a regular act between lovers – between husband and wife.

"It's good to see you," Mr Bates smiled foolishly, closing the door when she had left the bus, and leant down to plant a warm kiss to her cheek, despite her hat being an obtrusion. "I thought you might not have come."

Anna gave him the silliest, most exasperated, look. She playfully swatted his chest as the bus rolled away behind them. "Silly beggar," Anna murmured, her eyes drifting to his lips before moving back to his eyes. "And why would I do that?"

Bates shrugged sheepishly. "You might have found better ways to spend your time off. Not wasting it here with me."

Anna sighed and tilted her head to one side, earning herself one of those smiles from him – the kind that reached the corners of his eyes, causing his skin to wrinkle in the most endearing of fashions. It had prided Anna back at Downton that he would often save this kind of smile just for her. It was one of the many features that had caused her to fall in love with him.

"You know very well, John Bates that I would rather be here with you than anywhere else in the world. But we will talk more about that later. For now, you can take me somewhere that has tea."

After he had gotten over the momentary elation of hearing his first name leave her lips – something he had urged her to do so often but had rarely heard – he smiled at her request, or demand, even. He loved to watch that spark in her eyes, the mark of the strong, independent and fiery woman he had fallen in love with, and the ones that seemed to hold him in such high regards.

Wordlessly, he offered to her his arm and began to lead them to the teashop he had planned for their afternoon together.

* * *

Anna took the last swig of her tea before placing the cup back down on the saucer and collapsing further back into her chair, albeit briefly, before she sat back up, straightening her back.

Bates watched her with an amused smile, sitting back in his chair as he folded his hands in front of him. He had just watched her down the entire contents of her cup in one, and he could not help but tease her, knowing that she would not be taken by it and in fact he regarded her as the complete opposite, "And there was me believing you were a lady, how very un-ladylike of you."

Anna resisted the urge to poke her tongue out at him, aware that it would indeed prove that his teasing was correct. Instead, she replied with the words she knew he had heard before, "Well, Mr Bates, I'm not a lady and I don't pretend to be." She regarded him closely as he evidently remembered their walk to the flower show and watched as the sweetest of nostalgic smiles adorned his face.

"You are," John murmured softly, fingering the rim of his own cup before taking a sip.

Anna rolled her eyes at how sentimental and soft the man she loved was before she continued. "Besides, I haven't had a cup since breakfast. You know what it can be like."

He knew. But he also knew what Anna could be like. John knew that she would work herself ragged on the day she would have her afternoon off, so no one would have to do the majority of her workload instead. It was one of the many qualities that made him love her more, if that was possible, her selflessness and her kindness to others.

But he did not mention her work out loud, because he knew she would shush him promptly.

"How have you been, since we last spoke?"

John changed the subject, wanting to learn as much as possible about how life was treating her, and how everyone was at Downton with the war raging around them. He yearned for any information which would remind him somewhat of his time there – the happiest times of his life. The most fulfilling times of his life. He would find the conniving tales of Thomas and O'Brien endearing now that he had chance to miss them, and the fuss Mr Carson would make for a dinner party would fill him with amusement, and a longing for those old times.

Life had been so much simpler before Vera had reappeared, but in a way he could not complain, because her presence in his life – even with their distance now – meant he could offer more to Anna. He would suffer here working his days as a recovering alcoholic in the _Red Lion _with a shabby flat above the local antique shop if it meant even a chance at a future with the woman he loved.

"I would usually say nothing has changed, but in war nothing really stays the same." John noticed a hint of sadness in her voice, so he remained silent, letting her continue when she felt really to do so. He watched as she fidgeted with the gloves she had taken off and placed to her side, and then the prettily decorated crockery. He made a mental note to buy her a beautiful set similar to it when they had their own home. Eventually, Anna spoke, but her voice seemed thick with emotion, "We lost one of the stable boys last week. Sam."

John remembered him well, he thought sadly. He had been a young lad when John had been there, barely sixteen he would suspect. He had only met him on a few occasions, once when he and Anna had taken a long walk during a late summer night after the news of the war was announced. Anna and he had been caught in a rather compromising position by the boy – by Sam, he reminded himself to use his name, God knows there were few of those during war – and Anna had blushed furiously, leaving him to cough and stammer their farewells for the night. Of course, neither of them were doing anything to be ashamed of, apart from wanting to hold and kiss each other, but it had unnerved them nonetheless, and John would always have Anna's reputation to consider.

"It must be difficult." John offered her as a consolation. If a consolation would help in times like this. He knew for the most part it would be useless. He recalled a funeral here in Kirkbymoorside just the other day – or a memorial, because there had been no body to bury. War left no one untouched, and war left no consolations. Not in his own first-hand experience and not now.

"We go on. As we must." Anna smiled, trying to lift the mood. "But enough of this, how are you? Is there any news on…"

He watched her for a moment, thinking that he knew the source of her discomfort.

"You don't have to feel uncomfortable saying her name. Or talking about the divorce. It is _our _future, after all."

This earned a wider smile from Anna admittedly, but something was still on her mind.

"What is it?" John asked gently. He decided to reach across the table and offered his hand for her to take, just as he had in the _Red Lion _two weeks ago.

"Nothing, really." She noticed that he was giving her one of those looks, the type that said he did not believe that for a second. She sighed, and relented. "Just… as you said, a little uncomfortable."

"Why?" He asked softly.

She couldn't tell him. She didn't know herself, really. Anna had never had any troubles before talking about it, but in the past it had been more of a distant hope. Now it was happening. It wasn't that she didn't love John – heaven knows she did, more than she could even comprehend – or that she didn't want this, but now that it was really happening, there was something unnerving and worrisome about losing all the progress they had made. It was bad enough to lose hope when Vera could not be found, but now the divorce papers had been drawn and they were that bit closer, it would be devastating to fall.

To not speak of it explicitly maybe meant that she could live with their dreams for a little longer, and that the pain would not be as all-consuming if things were to collapse.

Anna would have chastised herself for being so uncharacteristically pessimistic had it not been for the ferocity of her feelings and the lengths of her love for him. She had never felt this way, or this strongly, before and the thought of losing him again so soon after finding him frightened her.

"I can hear you worrying in there," John teased her gently, aware that this was a sensitive subject.

Anna met his eyes instantly and revealed her inner most fear, "I'm scared to lose you again."

John swore he stopped breathing for a moment, and one look into her eyes told him again – as they had done two weeks ago – how much he had hurt her by leaving. He realised how much he would have to do, not to regain her trust and love, because he was sure he had that, but to reassure her over and over, and to reassure her of his confidence about the divorce.

He opened his mouth to start speaking, but was interrupted as a young waitress came across to their small table in the corner of the teashop.

"Can I get you anything to eat, sir? Madam?"

Jumping apart in surprise, they with withdrew their hands, Anna finding a new place for hers upon her lap. John took the initiative and spoke to the waitress.

"I'm afraid we haven't had the chance to look," John apologised. "Could you recommend anything?"

He looked across at Anna, who seemed to be avoiding his gaze after her revelation, seemingly a little unnerved.

"We have our soup of the day, which comes with a bread roll."

John smiled up at the waitress. "We'll have two please." He looked across at Anna. "Is that fine with you?"

Anna smiled and nodded before looking to the waitress and smiling politely at her too.

Once she had left, John looked across at her apologetically, offering her a sheepish smile. She returned it.

He found this uncomfortable silence between them slightly unsettling. They had never experienced this before, except the one time when she had declared her love for him on the way to the flower show and they had cast each other cautious, nervous looks for a short time afterwards.

It seemed they had a little way to go before they would be back to their same old selves, and John vowed to do everything he could to make sure this happened as soon as comfortably possible.

They remained silent for the rest of the time until their lunch arrived. Anna looked up often and smiled at him softly and reassuringly, and in a moment of confidence she reached out her foot to gently brush against his leg. She made sure she had found his good leg before Anna settled her foot above his, causing him to smile back and flex his fingers, almost as though he wanted to reach out again and take her hand.

Once the waitress had come back, placed their meals in front of them and left again, John decided to speak.

"I know my leaving must have hurt you."

Anna sighed, smiled and shook her head.

"At first it did." Anna could see the pained expression across his face and promptly sought to amend it. "But inside, I think I knew there must be a good reason behind your leaving."

She had not confronted Mrs Hughes about it, but from the times the housekeeper had tried to comfort her head housemaid, Anna was sure she knew something. Mrs Hughes had simply mentioned that Mr Bates must have had his reasons and had sent her one of _those _looks. Needless to say Anna had found some comfort from it, even if she had not been aware of all the facts.

"I just wish I had been honest with you," John confided in her. "When I was in London, I had written to you so many times. I had so many letters, but I never sent them."

"Why not?"

"Because Vera would have known. She knew about the letters, she must have found them when I was working."

Anna looked at him with sympathy. She knew – or could at least imagine – the things that would have left her mouth, and she did not want John to repeat them.

"It sounds like hell."

John chuckled darkly, spooning some of his soup, "It was."

"All the times we went to London with the family, I always hoped to run into you."

"I'd have liked that," John smiled.

Anna smiled back and chuckled at his sentimentality.

"But you're here now." Anna spoke suddenly. She put her spoon down and reached across the table for his hand.

"Your soup will go cold." He noted.

"I'm not hungry."

John rolled his eyes but accepted her hand, not caring about their location, the people here or the lack of ring on her finger.

"We can be happy again."

"I am," Anna argued.

"Then you will be able to trust me again. And I can promise you that I will not leave you again, if it be through my own choice. And I will reassure you of these promises again if I come back to Downton."

"_When _you come back to Downton." Anna corrected, tongue in cheek.

John smiled and stroked her hand. "If you say so."

And he was slowly beginning to believe her.

* * *

"You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble."

As Anna continued to be persistent, John rolled his eyes again.

Two weeks had passed since her last visit, and once again she had made her way to Kirkbymoorside on her Wednesday afternoon off. John had decided to organise a picnic for this visit, and the amount of food he had collected from the bakery had earned him a scolding from Anna.

"And I told you, it was no trouble. Nothing is too much trouble for you."

This time it was Anna who rolled her eyes. But instead of giving him a gentle nudge, she slipped her spare arm through his. She had convinced him that she could carry their picnic basket, and after a heated, although light-hearted, debate he had finally relented.

John turned, looked down and smiled warmly at her.

"Anything new from Downton?"

Anna sighed. "Much the same. William enlisted, as you know, but he hasn't left yet."

"Small mercies," John muttered underneath his breath.

Anna turned to him sharply, but as she noticed the dark look in his eyes, her heart fell. She rubbed his upper arm soothingly. "A talk for later," Anna suggested as they continued to walk through the country fields to a spot that John had reassured her would be perfect. "So, where is it you're taking me?"

He had described it to her in little detail upon her arrival, but Anna wanted to hear it again. Anna would notice that his eyes lit up and he became animated when he spoke, and it was these little details that Anna thrived upon. She thrived upon anything when she would only see him for an afternoon every fortnight.

John turned to her and smiled. "A spot just by the river. It's in the shade, but it also gets a nice portion of sun. Perfect for a picnic."

"And do you bring many of your women here?"

John smirked, but responded in a heartbeat. "Only you."

Anna could resist no longer and reached up to kiss him softly. John wrapped a spare arm around her waist, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. It had not escaped either of them that this was their first kiss since he had left last year. They had kissed on the cheek, and their hands but nothing like this.

As their kiss deepened, both in the knowledge that they were safe to embrace here, being a distance from Kirkbymoorside, they let the warm August sun wash over them as the piece of their broken hearts slowly started to realign.

* * *

"I couldn't eat another bite!"

Anna sighed, desperately wanting to recline across the picnic blanket, her stomach feeling bloated.

John really had gone to great lengths with this picnic. He had ordered many items from the local bakery, including some meat pies and her favourite jam tarts. He had topped that off with some slices of cake and fruit, and a bottle of cider for Anna and some lemonade for them both if she fancied drinking something different. She would be returning to work later that evening anyway.

"I did seem to overestimate the food." John replied meekly.

Anna simply smiled. She reached over and took his hand, and squeezed it affectionately. "It was lovely. Thank you."

"As long as you enjoyed yourself. I tried to remember your favourites."

"I did enjoy myself. But I'd put that down to the company and not Mrs Lee's jam tarts." John grinned at her response, even though he might not have fully believed it. "As my mum says, the company you keep says a lot about you. And memories are made and remembered because of the person you're sharing it with."

John smiled. Some time ago he may have retaliated with something along the lines of Anna being far too good for him; she could do better, but she had long since stopped those thoughts from leaving his lips. Anna had managed to reassure him of her love, and had taught him to feel better about himself. But John Bates and his conscience could still occasionally be a force to be reckoned with. His time away from Anna had brought all of this guilt back.

"And I can tell you are thinking too hard."

John sighed. "Brooding."

It would always be the excuse.

"Then brood about me."

And as if to cement this, Anna reached across, placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him sweetly.

John was surprised, but responded nevertheless. He wrapped his fingers in some of the loose hair not covered by her hat and deepened the kiss. His tongue stroked her lips and Anna parted them with a practiced ease. She tasted of sweet jam tarts and the stronger cider he had bought that she had sampled. John memorised the taste. He memorised the feeling of it all. The softness of her lips, the silkiness of her golden tresses between his fingers, the soft hum of her voice as she responded eagerly to the kiss…

Anna pulled away first when she needed to breath, but she ensured that their faces were only the shortest distance apart. "I love you," she spoke against his lips. He felt the curve of her smile against his lips. It sent his heart racing.

John pulled back only slightly to look into her eyes. Once he had done this and caught her gaze, showering her with his admiring gaze, he kissed her again. Softly this time – a short kiss that acted as his response.

As he declared his love through his actions and not words – as he had done so often during his years with her at Downton – he let himself hope that they would make it over this hurdle together. He finally gave himself hope to believe.

* * *

**Next: **One visit doesn't go quite as planned when a fond memory from the past is revisited, and John takes Anna to the bookshop.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for sticking with this story, I have loved reading all of your thoughts and comments. Updates should be more frequent now that I've finished Uni for the first year. Thanks to testship as always for reading through this for me, and to theglamourfades for checking some details that I had forgotten. Much appreciated!**

* * *

**Every Other Wednesday Afternoon**

**Chapter Three**

As soon as John saw her that day, he knew something was wrong. She did not look her usual self, but after one inquiry he learned that she was just feeling a bit under the weather.

Anna thought that she might have developed a cold for the last two days, and it had reached one of the worst stages today. Her eyes were weary and lacked their usual spark, and there was a slight redness around her nose. It reminded John of the time she had been struck with a cold those years ago, the time when the fair had come to Downton and she had missed it for being confined to her bed. He remembered bringing her a tray on that occasion, but now his first instinct was to persuade her to go home.

"Typical. One of the nicest days we'll get this autumn, and I catch a cold."

John smiled at her warmly.

"I don't suppose I can persuade you to take the next bus back?"

Anna raised her eyebrow.

"Not likely," she mumbled.

John looked at her, exasperated. "I was going to suggest we took a bus to Thirsk today, but we can save that for another time."

"Oh no, we can –" Anna was interrupted as she let out a large sneeze, taking her by surprise as she shook slightly in its aftermath.

John looked at her smugly, because he had been right, although his look was still full of concern for her welfare. Had it not been for the threatening clouds that were beginning to loom over the town, John would have insisted the two of them just find a nice path to walk, but the weather coupled with the occasional sneeze that Anna had no control over caused him to make the decision.

"We can go to the teashop. You should sit down and rest."

Anna nodded in appreciation of his gesture, but the movement seemed to stir something inside her, and her head suddenly felt dizzy. She clutched his upper arm as she involuntarily staggered backwards, using her other hand as she brought it to her forehead.

"Anna…" John spoke warily, but with large concern. "I do wish you would take the next bus."

Anna shook her head defiantly. "Just need to… sit…"

"You need to sleep, never mind sit."

Anna lifted her eyes to meet his, and the idea passed unspoken between them. John seemed torn at the idea, aware of the gossip about Anna should anyone find out, but as Anna's eyes began to droop once more, his decision seemed to be made.

"Come on, come with me." John urged her.

Once he had stopped off at the _Red Lion _and collected an order for some soup – the middle-aged cook in the back seemed to be fond of the couple, and Anna suspected John might have mentioned their situation to her, she seemed a lot like Mrs Patmore – he led her further into the town, through the square and to an old, queer-looking shop. They had to stop a couple of times for Anna, but only for a few moments whilst she steadied herself. She really did feel exhausted. He led her down an alleyway just to the side of the shop, and when their eyes met, Anna showed her concern and confusion through a frown.

"I don't want Mrs Peters to have the wrong impression of you."

"I don't care –" Anna began, but John stopped her.

"I do."

She knew he had always considered her a lady, and that he would go to whatever lengths necessary to protect her reputation.

Therefore, Anna allowed him to lead her through a back door and up to the flat he now called his home. Well, home, maybe not. He had expressed before that wherever she was felt like home to him, and that was Downton.

He had to take hold of her arm once more when another dizzy spell swept over her, but soon she waved at him that she was just fine. John led her into his own space. Anna looked around with curiosity, but tried not to seem too nosy.

It was small. The living area that also included a kitchen was about the size of his former bedroom, and there was one other door that led to where Anna assumed to be his bedroom. She quickly looked away from that door. The settee in the centre of the room looked highly appealing at the moment, and John seemed to notice the tired and weary look in her eyes, because he touched her arm gently and motioned for her to take a seat.

"You can sit down," John explained. "Rest. I will make us some tea."

Anna nodded wordlessly, approaching the tattered settee which had been draped with a few blankets that somewhere in the back of her mind Anna recognised. She assumed he had brought them from London, the ones that his mother had sewn. They seemed to do their job of protecting the chair from further damage. She slipped off her shoes without even untying the laces and settled down. It surprised her how comfortable she felt here, in his presence and in his own personal space, that she felt able to do this. She tucked her legs beneath her body and pulled one of the thin blankets over her body. She removed the pin that kept her hat in place and put them both down on the tiny, wooden table that a few of his books were scattered across.

Anna smiled, recognising some of the titles as his favourites. He had not changed since he had left. She remembered them reading and talking about some of these a couple of years ago. Anna reached across for one of the books, a copy of poetry by Burns, and flicked through some of the pages.

For a brief, fleeting moment Anna could just imagine that this was their life. To get in from a long day of work, to settle herself down in their living room and flick through his books whilst her husband prepared them tea. Tears briefly caught in her eyes before Anna stopped herself, shaking her head foolishly. There was no time for tears now. She had shed enough of those already.

Anna turned her head and smiled as she watched John prepare their tea. He moved around the little adjoining kitchen area with a seemingly practiced ease, even without his cane. But somewhere in the back of her mind, Anna noticed that he had looked a lot more at home preparing them tea at Downton.

As though he was reading her thoughts, John turned and gave her a knowing smile, just like the ones he used to share with her. At that, Anna turned back around and closed her eyes briefly, letting the stresses of the week go as she fell further into the settee.

John continued to watch her as he simultaneously finished preparing their tea. He noticed the soup that he had collected from the pub and decided to heat it up in case Anna was feeling hungry.

He found that the scene was quite domestic. For a moment, he could imagine that this was their life, every day. That the two of them would live together as husband and wife, and when Anna was feeling under the weather, or when they had returned from a long day at work, he would tend to her every need, fussing over her like a Mother Hen until she grew tired of his smothering. John laughed as he imagined her patience finally breaking, and then smiled to himself as he imagined how he would make it up to her. He would kiss her softly, chastely, and her lips would turn into a small, disbelieving smile as her eyes held that spark which was only reserved for him. She would slap him for being a silly beggar, which would often be the conclusion of their small arguments, or more specifically disagreements.

They would rarely argue, only about little things. Only when work became too stressful for them both and they needed to let their feelings go – or when she would disagree with his growing need to smother her from the world around them. He would always feel over-protective towards her. That was where their arguments would stem from. Not like with Vera.

As his thoughts drifted to Vera, he thought about the recent weeks and about how the divorce proceedings had begun to be hurried. After their last conversation at the picnic, John had wanted to hasten the proceedings as much as possible, his heart yearning to be back with Anna and to become her husband as soon as possible. A long-worded letter correspondence to his lawyer had resulted in a little progress, but not as much as he would have liked. Vera was still stalling the process as much as possible, but his lawyer reassured John that they were slowly beginning to wear at the cracks.

John still felt guilty about leaving Anna, although she had stopped him from apologising long ago – back when she had first found him here in Kirkbymoorside. She had heard enough of his apologies, and felt that he had no reason to give them anymore. He could probably learn to forgive himself for breaking her heart, but he would never forget. And he would ensure that he spent the rest of his life making sure he never did that again, should it be within his power.

He took a huge sigh, contemplating their future. It was these Wednesday afternoons that made him feel this could all become a possibility, but at the same time their dreams would never feel so far away. These times reminded him of all the trials of the divorce and the stalling Vera had done. All he wanted was for this to be over.

John finished preparing their tea and checked the soup briefly before reaching up on top of the cupboard for a tray. He noticed that Anna had fallen quiet. The last time he looked she had been immersed in one of his books. He began to arrange the food and drink on there, and he suddenly remembered the time he had brought her a tray before when she had been under the weather.

He remembered it all fondly – it was one of the many ways he had tried to outwardly express his growing feelings and affection for her, without uttering the words and it becoming all too real because of his marriage situation. Mrs Patmore complaining about her aching feet, he preparing Anna the modest tray as the old cook smiled knowingly, drinking her tea with a wistful stare, as he scuttled around the kitchen and cut a rather large block of butter, searching outside for the right flowers – not too elaborate, but not too plain either – and then watching her face light up as he appeared in the doorway, radiant.

John smiled fondly at the memory, and noticed his heart fall as he realised he would not be able to repeat the flowers this time. Still, he thought to himself, it was something at least, and if it made Anna smile then it would all be worth it.

He turned around and carried the tray across the room to where the small settee was, Anna still resting upon it.

"Lunch is served." John announced, placing the tray down on the small table that had been left in the small flat, and then turned to face Anna.

He let out a light-hearted chuckle as he noticed her eyes were closed, and after he had gently touched her arm, realised she was sound asleep. At the movement, Anna let her head drop onto the settee edge, shuffling about in her sleep to get comfortable.

John discovered he had never been witness to a more beautiful sight.

He had seen her weary before as she would almost fall asleep in the servants' hall, and he would hear her gentle sighs as her face fell into her folded arms on the table, but he had never seen her like this. John smiled, tracing her cheek lightly with his finger tips before gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his smile broadening as she moved again, furrowing deeper into the settee. John shook his head, still smiling, and noticed the book still in her hands. He took it out of her grasp and placed it gently on the table, before he persuaded himself to get started with some small jobs he had planned for the flat this week.

He stripped his bed linen and any other laundry he needed doing for Mrs Peters, who kindly did all of that for him. He had once before argued that he could do it himself, but the older lady simply shook her head and exclaimed that it would be easy enough for her, and that he was doing her a favour living in the flat anyway. He often would help her with some deliveries in the shop downstairs if she needed the assistance, and the old lady called it fair that she helped him too.

Once he had completed that, he set to work cleaning some of the dishes he had neglected as quietly as he could, still hearing the steady breathing of Anna from the settee, knowing that she needed as much rest as possible.

He kept a watchful eye on the time, aware that she would have to catch her bus in the next couple of hours in order to be back in time to dress the girls for dinner that night.

Looking around once more, he did worry about her. She obviously worked too hard, especially if she was feeling under the weather, and unless something was said by the other staff members to Mrs Hughes, she would continue working until she tired herself out completely. But at least she could get a couple of hours rest here, John thought, smiling once more. He found himself doing that a lot more since Anna had returned into his life.

His attention was caught as Anna turned and flipped onto her other side, her face burrowing further into the back of the settee, shutting out the light. John chuckled once more, and suddenly it crossed his mind to fetch another thicker blanket to keep her extra warm. His flat was hardly well insulated. Mrs Peters had left a battered, tartan blanket in the flat when he moved in, and from experience John knew that it was warm enough.

He walked across to Anna and gently laid it across her and the other blanket she had used, tucking it around her shoulders. Unable to resist, he ran his hand down her back gently, so as not to wake her, and found his hand running over all of the knots that had accumulated in her back during the past weeks. He shook his head, and sighed briefly.

Deciding to make the most of being near Anna, John settled himself down on the floor beside her – his knee be damned – and reached across to the table to pick up the book of poetry that lay there. He flicked through a few battered and worn pages before he came to one of his favourites and read through it a couple of times before Anna flipped herself again, causing him to jump.

The movement, however, and the look of utter content on her face brought another smile to his lips. He watched her for a couple more moments, before realising the blanket had fallen from her shoulders. Gently he placed the book down beside him and moved to tuck it back around her, although the movement seemed to rouse Anna, for she sighed dreamily and stretched a little, clicking her neck in the process, and smiled, her eyes still closed.

"Whatever are you doing, Mr Bates?" She teased him.

John smirked.

"Simply admiring the most beautiful woman as she sleeps."

Anna opened one eye, fixing him with a look. "Why, who else is here?"

John gave her an exasperated sigh, before he could restrain himself no longer. He lowered his head just a little and caught her lips in a soft, but passionate, kiss that answered her question completely. When their lips broke apart, their foreheads were still touching, and he whispered to her hoarsely, "Silly girl."

Anna giggled, the sound a delight to his ears. She placed a steady hand on his shoulder before using him as leverage, sitting up slightly and removing her other hand from his cheek to rub the small amounts of sleep from her eyes. "How long was I asleep?"

"Only an hour or so, maybe a little more."

She swatted his shoulder with a frown. "You should have woken me. We rarely get to spend time together as it is."

"You were exhausted," John argued. "And you looked so peaceful. I didn't have the heart."

Anna seemed to resign herself to his response, and sighed. "I _was_ tired."

John lifted his hand to her cheek again, moving a piece of her hair as he had done before. "Just try and get to bed earlier tonight. I know you."

"You do, do you?" Anna asked with a hint of a smile apparent even in her eyes. They were glowing, despite their growing tiredness.

"I know you will get back and want to work even harder than usual to catch up for your afternoon off."

Anna sighed and avoided eye contact with him, a sign that John took as him speaking the truth. He shifted awkwardly, his knee starting to bother him slightly, therefore he gently nudged her knee, causing her to look back up at him.

"Shift up a little." He asked her teasingly, using the small table as leverage as he got to his feet with as little embarrassment as possible.

It suddenly dawned on Anna, "I'm sorry. You should have just sat up here and woken me."

"I was hardly down here half an hour." John gave her one of those smiles that he hoped would ease her worries.

"Still…" Anna trailed off as John sat back on the settee with her, reaching over to pull the blankets over both their legs. Anna smiled at his actions, finding herself burrowing further under the blankets, revelling in the warmth that simply his body provided her with. She found herself recalling some of the cold nights they spent together in the courtyard, her snuggling underneath his jacket as she shivered under the moonlight, wanting just a few moments alone with him before they entered back into the real world.

"We should drink the tea while it's still warm."

Anna suddenly noticed the teapot and cups on the table, alongside a bowl of soup.

"I can warm up the soup later if you still want some."

Anna turned and smiled up at him, letting her hand brush over his upper arm. "You spoil me."

Before John could move again, or say another word, Anna extracted herself from the sea of blankets and poured them both a cup of tea, fixing them just the way they both liked. John liked his with quite a bit of milk, no sugar. Anna preferred hers stronger with one and a half spoons of sugar, two if she thought no one was looking. She put in two, stirred them both and handed one to John, smiling as she settled back onto the settee with hers, moving further towards his side as she stifled another yawn.

Anna finished her tea quickly, having woken thirsty from her sleep, and after she had placed the cup and saucer back on the table, she sidled closer to John, settling into his side. She was thrilled when he set his cup down too and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side. She rested her head on his chest, feeling its steady rise and fall as she fought the urge to close her eyes once more.

John was feeling just as content to have her at his side. He let his head drop to rest atop of hers as his hand gently brushed up and down her upper arm in a soothing manner. The scene was so peaceful, there was little noise coming from the flat but for a tune of steady breathing and often a contented sigh.

It took a lot for John to eventually break it, having attuned himself to the peaceful silence with Anna at his side for at least over half an hour. But he had wanted to speak with her today about the process of the divorce. He wanted to be able to share this with her, and previously she had expressed her wish for him to do so, and for him not to keep it to himself. She wanted him to be able to share these burdens with her. Her mother had always had a saying that to share your burdens is to halve your problems.

"I had some more letters from my lawyer this week."

He could feel Anna shift at his side, showing him that she was not asleep. However, she made no incline of moving from her position against his chest – her only movement was to bring her hand up to the other side of his chest, laying her palm flat against his shirt.

"What did he say?" Anna asked against his shirt.

John could not help but press a kiss to her head.

"That Vera is still finding a way to stall things," John began. "But that we are slowly beginning to wear at the cracks – that we might finally be getting somewhere."

At that, Anna looked up from her position and allowed her lips to curve into the most beautiful smile. An unspoken understanding passed between them, and their lips pressed together in the next second. The kiss was passionate, clumsy, searching… John found himself clutching at her arms, drawing her closer to him if that was at all possible. His tongue sought entrance from her lips, and Anna gladly complied, opening her mouth and deepening the kiss.

She could feel a familiar stirring in the pit of her stomach, a feeling that Anna was still unused to, but one that John knew all too well. He felt a dangerous stirring, and was about to end the kiss when Anna pulled away slightly, her breathing shallow and quick.

"Sorry," she mumbled, her breath hitting his face given their close proximity. "Just feel a bit light-headed still." John made eye contact with her and raised an eyebrow. Anna noticed this look and teased him, "Obviously the cold."

John gently nudged her ribs and laughed, pulling her back to his side as they were before.

"Well, given how I was beginning to feel, and where we are, I'm glad we stopped." John explained breathlessly, hearing Anna chuckle slightly as she too understood the meaning to his words. Whilst neither of them had done anything to be ashamed of, there had been a few heated moments either in the courtyard or in the grounds when the two of them had gone on a late night walk. Both of them were very aware of these feelings, and were used to feeling them.

"So Mr Lambert seems to think the process is starting to hurry?"

"He does," John let out a contented sigh, stroking her arm softly, almost teasingly, with his finger tips. Anna sighed too. "He thinks Vera is running out of cards to play. Soon she will have nothing left. And I still have proof of her adultery." Anna shifted in his arms. "Letters… between her and another man, down in London. And I have a woman, an old neighbour of Vera's, who saw a man visiting the house on a few occasions."

"You were quite the investigator in London, Mr Bates." Anna teased him, stroking his chest through his shirt. John smiled and tightened his hold around her, subconsciously telling Anna that all of that was for her; to be close to her. All of his waking thoughts and actions during his time in London were for Anna – for Anna, and his own sanity. After a silent moment of understanding, Anna spoke up again. "I am sorry. That things turned so badly with Vera. It must hurt that she slept with someone else, even if you no longer loved each other."

John sighed, and then smiled. Anna. His perfect Anna. She would always find a way to understand him, even when he had trouble doing so.

"I can hardly blame only Vera for how things ended between us. I drank too much. We both did." He might not have gone behind her back with another woman, but the bottle had consumed his life in a different way; a more testing way. When he considered the dying embers of their marriage, he would always insist that he was the one to blame. It was this realisation, when he had discovered that Vera had stolen the regimental silver, when he had decided to rehabilitate his life, and he took the blame. The silver and his prison sentence were symbolic of their disintegrated marriage.

"Stop it," Anna drew him from his thoughts. He had been silent for a good few moments. "I know how dangerous it can be to leave you alone too long with your conscience."

John smiled tiredly.

"I know you regret the things you have done. But you are a different man – a changed man. And you need to stay in the present, not just for you, but for us. I need you here."

John closed his eyes at the simple beauty of her words. The only way he could answer her properly, with justice, was to kiss her softly, and he did.

Anna accepted the kiss, although both of them stopped it from reaching the heights it had earlier on. It was a simple kiss, but full of passion and promises.

They sat, curled up together, John picking up one of his books and reading to Anna for a while as she started to doze once more, until the rather large groan from Anna's stomach caused them both to laugh out loud.

John sat up, noticing the time too. "I'll have to be getting you to the bus soon. I can re-heat the soup if you want to eat some before you go."

Anna nodded graciously, and smiled when John dropped a soft kiss to the top of her head before standing up and taking the soup to re-heat.

In the meantime, Anna pulled the blankets back around her tightly, almost as though she wanted to hide away and forget that this day – this _afternoon _– would eventually end. She buried herself deeper in the blankets, making the most of every second she had left here before she would go and get the bus back to Downton for another two weeks.

* * *

The next time Anna made the trip to Kirkbymoorside, two weeks later, John followed through with his original plan from the last time and proposed they took the next bus through to Thirsk for the afternoon, if for anything but a change of scenery. It was late September, the clouds had been threatening all morning and John and Anna had perused the bookshop and dined at the teashop in Kirkbymoorside more times than either of them cared to recall.

"So you feel better now?" John asked as the two of them boarded the bus to Thirsk. They had managed to get a seat beside each other, and the bus was hardly full at all, meaning that John felt comfortable with these conversations, and even enough to take her gloved hand.

Anna nodded, "I do. I felt better the day after I came to see you last week. I was under the most expert care." Anna turned and winked at him, squeezing her hand around his.

"Well that is good to hear." John smiled back.

They continued to talk about their past two weeks, filling the other in on the events either in the _Red Lion _or back at Downton Abbey. As the bus began to slowly fill, a middle-aged man came and sat beside them at one stop, and John was forced to withdraw his hand, placing it at his side.

Anna had different ideas, however. When she knew that John was not looking, finding the scenery as the bus passed by some fields, she dropped her hand to his and began to stroke his hand softly through her gloved one. She almost laughed as she watched John jump at the contact, and her insides fluttered when she realised he was smirking, even if he refused to look around and acknowledge the contact. In response, he began to stroke her hand too, hidden away from all of the other people around them.

Anna found herself breathing heavily just in the knowledge of the contact. Luckily, the bus stopped soon in Thirsk, and the two of them alighted and began to walk through the small market town.

Both were more careful in Thirsk, aware that someone from the village back home could easily recognise them here – it was one of the reasons the two of them had decided not to visit as far as Ripon on her afternoons with him. Luckily, the rain seemed to be making its arrival known, and this gave them the opportunity to rush off to the small bookshop that John liked.

They entered inside it, finding the place practically empty apart from the young girl who was sat behind the counter who gave them a warm smile as a welcome.

Anna smiled back and John nodded briefly, before the two of them headed for the back of the shop, where both knew were the books that John preferred, and where there would be more privacy.

Anna found herself giggling as she felt his hand on her waist, pulling her to one of the bookcases, ensuring both of them were out of sight as he pressed their lips eagerly together. Anna stopped laughing as their lips melted together, although at an awkward angle because of her hat. Their kiss ended promptly, both aware of their surroundings, but the fire in both their eyes could not be extinguished.

"Do you need anything new to read?" John asked, skimming some of the bookshelves, ignoring the way her lips had swollen due to his attentions. He coughed slightly, clearing his throat.

Anna narrowed her eyes, noticing his actions, but decided to not say anything about it. "I have a full library at my convenience at Downton, remember?"

Anna placed a hand on her hip, tilting her head to one side.

His eyes found her neck, and he had the strongest urge to kiss it. But John shook his head, reminding himself of where they were, and that if the divorce continued to be gathering pace as it currently was, they may indeed be married within the next year. It was still no easier to control his desires for her, though. Anna was the most beautiful, radiant, addictive woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Her charm and her delicacy were some of her most attractive qualities, along with almost every single other he could think of.

But as his mind started to wander over the delicate contours of her body, he shook his head figuratively, reminding himself of her last comment and his response, "How I miss it."

"But you may as well have one of your own," Anna smiled. She knew there were still dozens of books at his childhood home in London. Well, in storage, more specifically. She remembered him telling her that he had never trusted Vera to not sell them on, so he had made sure to keep them somewhere safe, along with any other valuables that were precious and nostalgic to him before he had left to come back to Yorkshire. "I do wish I could be here for your birthday next week."

"And what would that achieve?" John smiled, looking at one of the books he had taken from the shelf.

Anna looked at him and let out an exasperated sigh. "Even you should have someone to celebrate your birthday with. And I would have liked to be here." Anna stopped looking at him and scanned the shelves a little more. "I did try, but it would have meant swapping my half day with Miss O'Brien."

John chuckled, finding her eyes. "Anyone else…"

Anna grumbled, "She is so unreasonable. Ever since Thomas has been back…"

"You mean Sergeant Barrow?" John teased her.

Anna shot him a death stare.

"I am just about up to here with the two of them," Anna gestured to the top of her head, her usually pale cheeks turning a deep shade of pink as her agitation grew.

John smiled sympathetically, taking her hand. "Just forget about it – ignore them. If it would make you happy, we can do something special together the next time you come."

"A belated birthday celebration," Anna smiled. "I like the sound of that. I can give you your gift then."

John opened his mouth, "You shouldn't get me anything."

"But of course I will."

"You already spend money to come and see me."

"Money which I will gladly spend if it means being with you for one afternoon every _two weeks_." Anna punctuated the last two words with greater emphasis, now both hands on her hips. "Besides, the idea for my gift with be something nice for the two of us."

John felt the colour drain from his face. Anna noticed.

"And you can stop thinking so sordidly," Anna teased him, risking the distance between them and leaning up to kiss his cheek swiftly. "It is nothing like that."

"Will you give me no clues? Not even to mull over until I next see you?"

Anna tapped his chest. "You will wait until two weeks today, and that is that." John conceded and smiled in defeat, raising his hands. Anna smiled once more at him, stroking her hand down his arm until it reached his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She then asked impatiently, "Now, have you chosen a book yet?"

* * *

**Next: **John and Anna belatedly celebrate his birthday, and share a risque picnic.


End file.
